A deep sleep engulfed Lisell, a sleep that didn't want to give up. A sleep that was trying to remember those dreams. Those dreams that would seem to hang on the very edge of reality. Dreams of portent, dreams of rememberance. Dreams of being chased through the fog, dreams of a tall handsome man on a giant horse of grey. Dreams of a castle, dreams of being clean, and of a full belly. The dreams that were fighting the hands of her best freind Dini, whose hands were shaking her, making her forget the dreams. The dreams that were the stuff of fond memories, hidden just beyond the edge of reality. Dini's hands shook her more forcefully. "G'way, Din." "Wanna sleep." Dini's hands kept their insistant order's to awake. The hand's that were saying, 'forget the dreams.' 'come back to your life.' "Nnnnnhhh, g'way" The hands of her friend were more insistant now, urging her sleep encrusted eyes to open to the harsh reality of another day of gutting fish for a little piece of copper. Finally the right eye decided that it was time to try and break the crusty barricade of the night that protected the dreams from reality. Later in the day, Lisell was able to wonder at the rapidity of the mind to adapt to the fact that what one's sleep state assumed was reality, was in fact something that was remembered and could be false. Her eye's now took in the continance of an older woman. A round faced and anceint crone that had both hands upon Lisell's shoulders and was softly crooning for her to awake. A rush of experiences flooded thru the mind of the young girl. The fear, the capture, the handsome face of her saviour. A ride, and many promises. As these images flowed throught her mind, she tried to come to grips with what had happened to her. Shock, surprise, apprehension, and many other emotions made their way across her young face. All this while the old woman was staring at her with a look of calculation and something else.....what else she couldn't read. However she was able to discern that the overriding emotion of the old woman was of a kindness that over-rided all of the other expressions. As the many emotions tumbled throughout her mind and as she tried to come to grips with all of the fears and doubts that were rising unbidden into her reality, she was able to put these thoughts into order and to sublimate them into her new vision of what was real and what was her new life. After, but a few seconds, she was able to put all these thoughts into a recess of her brain for later disection. Looking up at the crone she started to appologise for her fear at this awakening. "Hush Lisell, hush and be still." The kindly eyes, hidden behind the folds of flesh that almost hid the orbs from view, gave a sparkle of humor, and of something else. Just what else the child couldn't guess. Sister Majjerit leaned back and stared at the young girl. She admitted to herself that this youngster had all the makings of someone special. To have been through the shocks of the last 12 hours and come to grips with an awakening like this, with such awareness, was the sign of a very strong mind. She wondered, in a deep recess of her mind, if this scrawny little waif could actualy be as special as she appeared at first glance. No, better to assume that she was just a street-smart urchin with a slight gift of intelligence. No hopes, no large hopes yet. Keep your dreams to yourself Majjerit. It's not time to dream yet. Since the year 1115, Sister Majjerit had served the House St. Clair. The Sister had served the King Joseph, and his son King Tyrell. She now served the grandson, King Duncan here in the year 1148. It had been many years of quiet servitude that seen the good Sister ply her peculiar talents in the bowels of this palace. Searching, ever searching. Striving to find the ever so rare jewells, amongst the debris that washed up against her shores. The jewells were very rare. Lady Samin had come close. What was it, 25, no 27 years ago. That Lady had been the apple of Majjerit's eye. Tall and willowy, a woman of unsurpassed beauty. It was a shame that her vanity had led the Lady to an untimely death at the hands of the Clan Douglas. Ahh, but Ginnia, the dear Lady Ginnia. Not a beauty by the standards of the day, but a true woman, a woman whose quick wit and bright disposition had won the heart of the current king's father. The daughter of a mild mannered metal worker she had come into Majjerits care and with ease had won the heart of King Tyrell. Their union had produced the current monarch. Despite all of her efforts Majjerit had not come up with another woman to equal Ginnia. The King had chosen his wife from among many women of high breeding that had been presented to him at his accesion. The Queen Valenia had been a beauty as a young woman of 17, a shrew by the time she was 20, and banished from the court (with her many lovers) by the age of 25. Since then King Duncan had been alone, eschewing all female companionship. Oh, he flirted at the occaisional state banquet, but never seriously, and seemed not to really be interested in continueing the liasons that were offered him. The King's three children by Valenia were of no consequence. The eldest and heir to the throne was a man/boy that was only interested in pursuing the pleasures of the flesh. Usually with other men, came the unbidden and quickly surpressed thought to Majjerit. Of the two girls, the Princess Jennai was happily married to the bastard son of Count Mondassi, and the youngest, Princess Clarin seemed to be uninterested in anything but continuing her education in astronomy of all things. So, putting all of her hopes and dreams into a small box, and tying it neatly with string and putting it under the bed of her mind. The old woman looked at Lisell and ordered her young charge to dress in the shift that was draped over the foot of the bed and then to follow her to break their fast,.